Waiting
I sit in the waiting room,
Waiting for them to call my name
Even though I don’t want them to.
I watch all the little bald kids play in the corner.
They don’t realize what awaits them,
What the future will be like.
I am known as the one with cancer,
this is what it will be like for them.
Their parents sit and watch them play
as if it was their last day together.
Nurses and Doctors walk through the waiting room.
Suddenly, I hear my name.
The butterflies in my stomach reappear
for I am not looking forward to what comes next,
I see the needle and it pierces my skin,
I squeeze my stuffed dog,
The nurse pushes chemo through my IV, she pulls it out.
I am done.
My time in this place is over for now,
but I know I will be back all too soon.
My Days
Hospital visits on Monday, Wednesday, Friday
Blood transfusions, Spinal Taps, Chemo,
Needles, Pills, Procedures,
Doctors, Nurses, Patients, Parents.
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
I had to keep fighting so I would survive.
So many new concepts, so many new things
A new way of life, a new way to live.
No more going out, only staying in,
No more school, only trips to Children’s
I found a new family of friends,
I soon longed for the days I spent with them.
I miss the long days I sat all-day
On those Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays.
This post was written and submitted by Carolyn Koncal Breinich. The article reflects the views of Koncal Breinich and not of CURE®. This is also not supposed to be intended as medical advice.
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